


Close Quarters

by bettervillains



Series: By The Throat [3]
Category: Wynonna Earp (TV)
Genre: F/F, shower
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-21
Updated: 2016-06-21
Packaged: 2018-07-16 12:17:50
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,000
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7267822
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bettervillains/pseuds/bettervillains
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Shut up," Waverly huffed, water streaming down over her shoulders.</p><p>"Maybe you should make me."</p>
            </blockquote>





	Close Quarters

**Author's Note:**

> Again, could read as a third part to this mess of WayHaught fics I've somehow stumbled into, or as a standalone.

Nicole woke to a whimper. 

Her eyes blinked open, bleary with sleep, seeking out the source, and as her fingers curled into the quilt draped over the woman next to her, she discerned the cause. 

Waverly Earp was crying in her sleep. From the sounds of it, she thought, must be one hell of a nightmare. 

Something tugged at Nicole's chest, heartstrings finely tuned to allow no malcontent. She leaned down, ran long fingers through tousled hair, and gently kissed her awake. 

Waverly's eyes shot open, and before Nicole could manage a word of comfort, Waverly's elbow cracked firmly against Nicole's nose. Nicole, shocked, rolled right off the bed. 

"Oh my gosh," Waverly gasped, covering her mouth, "Oh, no —"

Nicole emerged from the floor, blood leaking down over her lips. 

"Morning," she mumbled. 

Waverly watched in horror as Nicole pressed on her nose, wincing. 

"I'm —" but Nicole waved her off.

"It's fine," she replied, shaking her head. Something about Waverly made her easy. "Good hook you got there. Impressive."

Waverly laughed nervously, "Yeah?"

"It'd even be sexy, if it didn't hurt so much."

Nicole stood, holding her nose. 

"Gonna go get cleaned up."

She loped over to the bathroom, pressing on her nose, feeling the cartilage shift under the pressure of her fingertips until, looking in a slightly too short mirror, she popped it painfully back into place with a groan.

Nicole's hands found the sink, and she grimaced at the bloody fingerprints she left on the glossy white countertop. The best way to clean up might just be —

"Hey Wav?"

"Yeah?"

"I'm gonna use your shower, that okay?"

There was a long pause, almost uncomfortably quiet, before, "Yeah, of course, totalutely."

Nicole laughed, even as Wav shouted back from across the room for her to stop, that _puh-lenty_ of people trip over their words _all_ the time, shaking her head as she stripped out of her shorts and tank top, ditching them in a corner of the small bathroom.

The shower, unsurprisingly, was even smaller, a tub that seemed custom made for Waverly's frame and likely wouldn't accommodate a prone Officer Haught. She smiled, and turned the water on to just short of piping. Everything in Waverly's apartment said something about her. Nicole couldn't love it more.

The plumbing squeaked and sighed within the walls, water coursing through as Nicole washed the drying blood off her chin and hands. Perhaps it was the echo of the rushing water, perhaps the drowsiness of early morning, but she didn't hear Waverly until the shower door was sliding open. 

Nicole turned. Waverly was in a robe, arms crossed loosely over her stomach.

"Hey," Nicole murmured.

"You okay?" Waverly reached up and touched her cheek, near her nose. 

Nicole nodded. "Just knocked it back into place. Might be a little swollen later, but..."

Waverly leaned up, pressed a gentle kiss to the bridge. If it hurt, Nicole didn't feel it, couldn't acknowledge it over the static overcharge of butterflies in her stomach. Nicole bit her lip.

"Good," Waverly mused, then, after a moment, untied the robe, and let it fall. 

There was something entirely different about this, about Waverly bare in the bright overhead light, than Waverly bare underneath quilt and the dusky tune of early midnight. Nicole swallowed, and stepped back, holding out her arm to help her step in. 

The door slid shut behind her, and the close quarters of the small shower pressed them close. Nicole drew a deep breath, holding her gaze as Waverly looked up at her, blinking slowly —

— and then promptly dunked Waverly's head under the water. Waverly squeaked, shoving Nicole's chest, then catching her as she began to slip, holding her fast. 

Nicole blinked, smiled. "Golly, miss, you're strong."

"Shut up," Waverly huffed, water streaming down over her shoulders.

"Maybe you should make me."

Waverly raised a brow, studied her eyes, and tugged her closer for a kiss — on the first attempt, she nudged her nose against Nicole's, drawing a hiss of pain from the deputy's throat. When Waverly kissed her again, she tipped her head to the side to avoid any contact with it. 

"I'm sor —"

Nicole shook her head, holding her cheeks, kissing her hard until her back rested against the tile wall. Waverly's head tipped back, exposing her throat, and Nicole scraped and kissed a footpath of red marks from jowl to collarbone, taking delight in every whimper and groan that met her smirking lips. 

"Nicole," Waverly whined, hips pressing up, and that was all it took for Nicole's hands to streak down like summer rain, skating across the expanse of her stomach, the cut of her hips. Something about Waverly made her easy. 

It was quick. Almost embarrassingly so, pinned there between wall and wanting, and for a moment all sensation was lost: the water, the pain in her nose, the steam thickening the air, the flickering light overhead, the feel of porcelain under her toes — there was nothing for Nicole but Waverly, bold and bright and beautiful, nothing but the feeling of her skin under her fingertips, the warmth of her core, the slick sensation of her kiss. Nicole caught herself grinding against Waverly's thigh, however low, fingers twined in a muddled music between them until Waverly sang out a gasp, fingers tight in Nicole's hair. 

When Waverly sunk her teeth into Nicole's shoulder, she very nearly toppled over after her. Her hips jerked, and Waverly caught her thigh with one trembling hand, held fast as she snaked her fingers, thumb like a missile, homing in on its tense target — something about Waverly made her easy. 

They panted steam into heaving lungs, kissing each other down from the high of husky heat, Haught holding her lover like a symphony, Waverly holding her lover like a dream —

"Your dream," Nicole murmured, lips wet against her forehead, "You wanna talk about it?"

Waverly chuckled, low and hoarse. 

"Honestly?" She twirled her fingers in Nicole's hair, tugging her down again, "I can't even remember."


End file.
